All right, I'm incredibly new at this, so mock me all you want:) Er...I assume I am to put a disclamer on this, all though it is blatently obvious that I do not in any way, shape or form own X-Men or Scott Summers, though I do own a pair of fake vampire fangs:) Please leave me a review so I know what to improve on, what to get rid of, what to stash away for a rainy day, and what to just forget about completely. Also, if I get any facts wrong, please fell free to correct me, I hate to be wrong, but as I am new to the X-Men addiction, I must say I'm not an expert. Please enjoy.
Almost forgot their ages:
Bobby:13
Scott:15-16ish
Warren:16-17ish
Hank:17-18ish
Keys, Zombies, Chimneys, and Other Male Bonding Experiences
By: demitasse 007
"I'll only be gone for a few hours, all right? Try to behave yourselves, and look after Bobby you three." Professor Xavier said to his three oldest male students, Scott Summers, Warren Worthington, and Hank McCoy. "Jean is staying at a friend's house, so she won't be home."
"I bet," muttered Scott Summers, rolling his eyes behind his dark shades.
"Scott," Warren growled, shooting the irritable, mean spirited teen a death glare, "down."
"I do not, I repeat, do not; want to be interrupted during this meeting. This could prove to be a very useful ally for mutantkind. Do you understand me?" The Professor said, looking directly at Scott when he said this.
"Why is it always me who gets the dirty looks, god, it wasn't like it was me who blew up the kitchen when someone was experimenting with flammable substances," Scott said accusingly, looking directly at Hank who was sporting only one semi-singed off eyebrow, while the other one was nowhere to bee seen.
"Sacrifices must be made in the name of science," Hank said disinterestedly, scratching a scab on his arm from where he spilt some caustic materials on himself while attempting to melt a pair of Warren's expensive leather shoes last week.
"That's means no prank phone calls to China, no making flash bombs in the basement, no spying on the neighbors with the telescope, and no leaving the house. Got it boys?" professor Xavier growled, all three teens gulped and nodded.
"Why isn't Bobby getting this little speech?" Warren asked.
"Because someone put ex-lax in his chocolate milk," Professor Xavier said, midst the snort from Scott, "and is currently in the bathroom. Scott?"
"Remember, sir, innocent until proven guilty." Scott shot back with a smirk, before coughing slightly.
"Yes, of course," The Professor said, rubbing his temples wearily. "I must get ready, please at least attempt not to kill one another, please?"
"We'll try," Hank said with a grin, eyeing up Warren with an evil look. Mad-scientists weren't a good thing to have lying around the house.
"Dismissed," Xavier said shaking his head and wondering why he even tried to understand his students.
"I can't believe he's making me stay in and baby-sit you three," Scott grumbled, flopping onto the couch in the Rec. Room.
"Excuse me, I had a date tonight, so I conceder me the one giving up more." Warren corrected, sitting down on a chair, his wings folded tightly behind him. Hank, on the other hand, was somehow hanging upside down from the ceiling with his large feet. Scott didn't want to even wonder how he did it.
"As did I," Scott sighed. Closing his eyes, and resisting the urge to blow a hole in the roof for no other reason than to piss the Professor off, and he would too, except for the fact that there was always the risk that he would blow Bobby up in the process, considering the bathroom was directly over them. Scott idly wondered if human waste was flammable.
"You. Had. A. Date?" Warren said in disbelief.
"Yes, I was planning on spending the evening getting high in the back alley behind a bar, having some fun with this hooker who calls herself Barbie, and passing out with my face in the toilet so I wouldn't have to live this miserable existence surrounded by you morons anymore." Scott said nastily.
"So you didn't have a date," Warren smirked.
"Of course I did, I was planning on working on my car, reading my newest Stephen King book down at the coffee shop, and hooking up with a desperate Goth girl." Scott said with a smirk at his two friend's faces, "What? I'm a red-blooded male just like you two. What did you think I did at the Cyber Cafe, drink coffee all night?"
"Goth? How el passé." Warren sneered after getting over his shock that Fearless actually did have a semi-social life.
"What can I say, plastic leather, pale skin, and fake vampire fangs turn me on," Scott shrugged, still looking at the ceiling.
"What?" Bobby asked, bouncing into the room. "What did I miss?"
"Scott was just discussing his perverted fetishes." Hank with a laugh.
"Did you remember to flush?" Warren asked warily.
"Of course I did," Bobby said indignantly, "What do you think I am, six years old?"
"Sometimes I wonder……." Warren said, trailing off in thought.
"Shut up Worthington," Bobby grumbled, plopping down to the floor next to the couch with all the attitude a 13 year old could exert. "So what are we doing tonight?"
"I have a new 'Girls Gone Wild,' DVD." Warren said with a smirk at the look of excitement on Bobby's face. "And a copy of Blues Clues the Movie for Bobby."
Bobby's face fell, "Why aren't I ever allowed to watch with you guys?" He whined, pouting.
"Because you act like a five year old," Warren said coldly.
"My, my, we do seem to digress in age with every comment you make Bobby," Scott quipped from the couch. "Maybe you should stop before Warren hits the negative numbers; you know how he is with math, his little blonde head might implode."
"Hey, I am offended by that comment," Warren huffed, "As the future heir of Worthington Steel, it is very important for me to be able to calculate things mathematically."
"Then you better get working on that," Hank chirped in from his perch on the ceiling.
"Thanks a lot for your support McCoy. It's not like I'm the one who covered for you when you used Jean's expensive, French Imported perfume for some stupid experiment, and got a hold of a new bottle to replace the one you used." Warren said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Well I'm not the one who drank the experiment, thinking it was soda," hank said smugly, flipping off the ceiling and landing with a muffled thump on the floor.
Warren idly flipped through channels on the television, only stopping to oogle at Brittany Spears as she bounced around stage at one of her 'live' concerts, her shirt barely covering her jello-like, surgery-enhanced breasts.
"Stop here," Scott said suddenly from his perch on the couch as he sat up when Warren flipped on an old sci-fi movie.
"The Attack of the Killer Zombies? Really Scott, when we thought your tastes could fall no lower," Warren sneered, preparing to flip the channel.
"Did you say The Attack of the Killer Zombies? Oh my stars and garters, I love that movie!" Hank exclaimed, jumping over the back of the couch and landing next to Scott.
"I'm surrounded by geeks," Warren cried into his well manicured hands.
"I've never seen this movie before," Bobby said, "Is it scary?"
"Of course it is," both Hank and Scott chimed in at once.
Twenty minutes later, as the Professor sent each of the boys a telepathic message, which was ignored, that he was leaving; all four of them were entranced in the horrific masterpiece of the movie.
"Don't open the door!" Bobby cried through his spread fingers. "Don't do it."
"Why is it in all scary movies, they A. split up, B. do stupid things like not turn the lights on, and C. are completely clueless until the last second that their houseguests are flesh eating zombies?" Warren asked in morbid fascination as he watched a girl's arm get gnawed off.
"It's a cult classic," Hank said, watching the television without blinking, "It must fit those requirements so the people watching the movie feel superior to the characters, it's playing on irony, an 'I know something you don't know sort of thing.'"
"Huh?" Warren asked, scratching his head in confusion, big words confused him too easily to be used so many times in one sentence.
"Would you two shut up? There's a good part coming up I don't want you idiots interrupting," Scott growled before turning back to the television screen.
"Right, quiet bird-boy." Hank grumbled.
"Hey!" Warren protested, "At least my feet don't require a size twenty two sneaker."
"It's only twenty one and a half," Hank muttered.
Scott shot the two arguing mutants a look which settled the argument giving them two choices, 'either shut up or die a painful flaming death when I duck tape your mouth shut and tie you up while your sleeping and light you on fire wile laughing insanely in the background.'
They chose choice one.
So eventually the evil flesh eating mutant zombies, mutant being used lightly and in the most non-derogatory way possible, were defeated by the dashing hero clad in black leather on a vendetta to get revenge on the zombies for eating the love of his life because she was stupid enough to forget to turn on the lights before going into the garage. Whoops.
It all ended in a big fiery blast that somehow all the zombie scum died in, but the hero miraculously walked away from though it should have blown him into tiny little human flesh bite size pieces. The cheesy overdone theme music blasted out of the television signifying the movie had ended.
"Wasn't that a wonderful movie?" Hank asked, "It's been a while since I've seen that particular one."
"Heaven forbid," Scott quipped, in a better mood than he was before since he had just watched a horrible gory, blood-spattered, cannibalistic, depressing movie which ended with everything blowing up in the end, excluding the black clad main character.
"You know, I think he would have looked better in a dark green color. Forest green is a possibility," Warren said out loud to no one in particular.
Everyone stared at him for a few silent seconds, "I've been wondering this for a while," Scott said seriously, "Are you gay? I knew that time you walked in on me showering wasn't an accident."
"How could……Dear God…….I could never……Yuck!" Warren said quickly in a disgusted voice, "I like my women just fine, so don't flatter yourself Slim."
"I wasn't trying," Scott smirked, "I was just curious what you and your high society members did at that all boys' prep school you went to before you came here, for kicks 'ya know."
Warren blushed at the suggestion that was unspoken.
"What" Bobby asked, "do you mean Slim? I don't get it."
"I don't expect you to for a few more years," Scott said distractedly. "I hope to God you don't anyways."
"I'm not even going to give you the satisfaction of giving you a reply to that implication." Warren said, using his high and mighty vocabulary and snotty, upper-class voice.
"Now I remember why I lock my door at night," Scott said with another smirk, edging Warren on. The winged mutant refused to take the bait though.
"Scott, are there really such things as zombies?" Bobby asked the older mutant.
"Why would you ask me that?" Scott asked bluntly, before holding his breath to stop from coughing, the itchy feeling in the back of his throat driving him crazy.
"'Cause if there are such things as mutants, then couldn't there be such things as zombies?" Bobby asked from his spot on the floor.
"The childe has a point," Hank said, "We're scientific and biological abnormalities which shouldn't exist; there is the possibility that zombies exist. I must look into this further." Hank said happily before getting ready to bound off to this lab to research the possibility that there may be zombies walking among us as well as mutants.
"Hold it ape-boy," Scott said, grabbing Hank's t-shirt as he turned away from the couch. "I already know that answer."
"You do?" Bobby asked eyes wide.
"Of course I do, there are such things as zombies. Where do they get them for the movies? The grocery store? I don't think so." Scott said very seriously, seeing Bobby believed his preposterous story. "Well I'm going to get something to eat. Come find me if you need me to blow up any zombies that come looking for you." Scott held back a smirk as he left the room, leaving a dumbstruck Bobby behind, neither Warren nor Hank attempted to correct Scott, waiting to be able to think back to this moment and laugh about how stupid and gullible Bobby was.
Meanwhile Professor Xavier smiled as he greeted his dinner guest as she approached the table at the fancy restaurant they were to dine at.
"It's lovely to meet you Doctor Maxwell," Xavier said, "Please take a seat, order whatever you want, it's all on me."
"The same to you Professor Xavier, but please call me Lucy, Doctor sounds so formal." The younger brown haired woman said, taking a seat across from Xavier.
"Only if you will call me Charles then," Xavier smiled again. Lucy smile back.
"Of course, Charles," she said testing the waters. Xavier laughed.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person, considering all our conversations were over e-mail," Xavier said, "You're every bit as lovely as I thought you would be."
Lucy smiled, "You're quite the charmer Charles, but let's get down to business."
'Of course, of course," Xavier said in a fatherly way. "You had questions about my work, and I had questions about yours. Why don't you go first?"
"All right, this school of yours, exactly what types of mutants go there?" She asked confidently.
Xavier thought it over for a moment, "We have, so far, five alpha-level mutants attending our school. Jean, Warren, Bobby, hank, and we can't forget Scott." He thought of his first student, shaking his head. "They're quite a handful."
"Jean's the telepath, correct?" She asked.
"Yes, she's telepathic and telekinetic. Both are hard abilities to control, and she struggles at times, though she lives a very normal life outside of the school." Xavier said, smiling fondly at the thought of his only female student.
"What about Bobby? Wasn't the one with wings?" She questioned, taking a sip of her ice water.
"No, Bobby pulls moisture from the air and creates ice; Warren has wings protruding from his back." Xavier corrected.
"That must be a rather hard mutation to conceal," she commented.
"He has a special brace to hold his wings tight to his back, though he must wear rather well-covering clothing in public to cover them. It's rather uncomfortable for him to have them strapped tightly to his back for a long time." Xavier said before telling the waiter who just approached he'd have the poached salmon.
"I'll have the chicken in garlic sauce," she said to the waiter before handing him before handing them man her menu. She waited a few seconds before the man was out of earshot before asking her next question. "And Scott…..He's the one who's yours? Right?"
"He's placed with me," Xavier replied, "He's a foster child in short, but our arrangement is permanent, as far as the judge rules. Scott emits optic blasts, concussive force beams, from his eyes. He suffered a head injury as a child and cannot control them."
"So he's blind?" Lucy asked, aghast.
"Not quite," Xavier smiled, "we constructed a special visor made of ruby quartz for him, and eventually grafted it into a pair of special glasses which look relatively normal. He still must be very careful, and it has made him a bit…….cautious."
"Cautious? I'd be bitter if I were him." Lucy commented sadly.
"He's that too, prickly, sarcastic, cold, sometimes cruel, blunt, truthful, and withdrawn sometimes. He's practically the walking poster boy for Prozac." Xavier said ruefully, "But in truth, he's a great boy, intelligent, witty, loyal, brave, and always ready to do the right thing. He's a brilliant strategist. I'm surprised he didn't try harder to get out of having his parole officer, he could manage it with a mind like his, but I think, though he would never admit it, he likes her down somewhere in that shriveled up, little black heart of his."
Lucy smiled at Xavier, "It sounds like you really care for him. Like you really care for all your students."
"They're like my family," Xavier admitted. "Now it's my turn to ask questions."
"Scott!" Bobby yelled as he ran through the door of the kitchen, where the mutant teen was perched on the counter in his usual spot, eating a carton of cold, leftover Chinese food skillfully with a set of chopsticks.
"What?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at the petrified teen.
"I….I saw a zombie." Bobby stuttered, "Itwasreallyreallyscaryandlookingatmethroughthewindowofmyroom."
"Really?" Scott droned, wondering if he could just kill himself now and save whoever thought of letting Bobby watch the movie the trouble.
"I thought it was going to eat me!" Bobby cried, "You gotta kill it!"
"Zombie Hunter Extraordinaire, Scott Summers." Scott said thoughtfully before smirking, "I don't like the flow of that, sounds terrible."
"I'm not kidding," Bobby whined piteously. "What if it comes back while I'm sleeping?"
"Well at lease there will be one less person to steal my tootsie rolls," Scott muttered. Everyone knew about his huge stash of tootsie rolls which he hid in a shoebox on the bottom shelf on the left side of his closet.
"Seriously Slim," Bobby said, giving Scott the patented 'puppy dog eyes', "Please."
"Fine," Scott grumbled, "But Re-Re and Tard-Tard have to come as well, because I'm sure they have something to do with all of this."
"Who?" Bobby asked, completely oblivious to the joke.
"Warren and Hank," Scott sighed at his younger housemate's stupidity.
"Oh, why did you call them Re-Re and Tard-Tard?" Bobby implored.
Scot blinked, "It. Was. A. Joke." Bobby laughed, "I get it now, like retard. Re-Re, Tard-Tard."
Scott sighed, rubbing his temples, "Just go get the two morons, tell them if they don't come, I'll write their obituaries for the paper when their bodies mysteriously wash up on some distant shore."
"Okay….." Bobby backed away from Scott slowly, before turning and sprinting up the steps in haste.
Scott laughed creepily to himself, before taking one last bite of cold Chinese food out of the carton before returning the carton to the refrigerator. He quickly washed his chopsticks and hid them in the third drawer down from the coffee maker, under a bunch of paper napkins. No one in the house, bar Jean and the Professor, used napkins, so his treasure would remain unstirred until he required their services again.
Ten minutes later, a muttering Hank and Warren came down the stairs, followed by a semi-terrified Bobby who immediately ran to the jar where they kept the garlic cloves and pulled a piece of string from his pocket and began stringing the smelly cloves together to form a necklace.
Scott coughed, watching in amusement as Bobby feverishly attempted to tie the cloves together. "Why is Bobby stringing all the garlic in the house?"
"It appears he's making a necklace," Hank commented, leaning against the counter next to where Scott once again sat.
"Why? We're hunting zombies, not vampires," Scott shook his head.
"Garlic doesn't keep away zombies?" Warren questioned innocently.
"Just don't tell him," Scott sighed, wondering when this fiasco would be over so he could se if there was another old monster movie on that he could watch until the Professor came home and yelled at him for eating Chinese food on the couch while Scott purposely dropped a few noodles between the couch cushions so they'd begin to smell in a week, just to irk him.
Scott slid off the counter and stalked to the closet where he left his leather jacket, Hank and Warren exchanged looks before following his lead. Bobby cheered as he slid his anti-zombie charm over his head and ran over to the closet, pulling his heavy winter hunting jacket, which made him look like a florescent orange marshmallow, and shrugging it on. Bobby didn't really mind the cold, but he loved just wearing the jacket because he thought it made him look like Kenny off of Southpark.
Scott sighed before opening the back door, and walking out, bracing himself against the frigid fall air. It was late October, hence all the scary movies being on, but it was unusually cold, Scott shivered, preferring sunlight because of his mutation which used energy from the sun. "Let's go," Scott grumbled.
Hank and Warren followed him ashen trudged across the wet grass to the edge of the yard. "Where was your 'Zombie' at?" Scott asked wearily to Bobby.
"Right by my window, over there," Bobby pointed at his window.
Scott heard Warren stifle a snigger, but he decided not to comment just yet. "Well let's hurry up this little zombie hunt, eh? It's friggin cold."
They wandered over towards the house, and Scott peered up, noting that the window above Bobby's room, the one on the third floor, was open.
"I don't see any zombies," Hank said, restraining a laugh.
"I don't either," Bobby admitted, "But I saw one, I swear it."
"I'm sure you did Bobby, just not a real one. I bet you Hanks' surgical dummy will be laying on the floor in the room above your room, the one with the window open, dressed in normal clothes with the zombie Halloween mask Hank got last year to go out and scare small children on Halloween." Scott smirked as he finished, seeing Warren and Hank's mouths hanging over, Scott had guessed everything.
"How did you figure……?" Warren asked, dumbstruck.
Scott coughed lightly; maybe he was getting a cold. "Well, I was actually considering doing the same, exact thing." He admitted.
Warren and Hank laughed, but Bobby pouted. "So there's no zombie?"
"Of course not," Scott laughed, "I was just kidding."
"Well that wasn't very funny," he grumbled, though a small smile pulled at the sides of his mouth, ruining his moment.
"Sorry kid," Scott laughed, though it was soon cut off with a few sharp coughs, he'd been coughing like mad all week, it must be a cold.
"Well I think I am ready to get some hot coca and curl up with my newest edition of Science Weekly," Hank commented as soon as he could speak again.
"I agree with you," Warren second. "I'm expecting a phone call from Kelsey Skene."
Scott shrugged, "I officially call this zombie hunt to an end."
All four mutants trudged back to the house as it began to rain lightly. "Good timing," Warren commented as he reached the door. He turned the doorknob, but it refused to move. The rain got harder. "Anyone have a key?" He questioned.
Everyone shook their heads negatively. Scott groaned inwardly, he should have known this was going to happen. Every time he was enjoying himself, something happened.
"Now what?" Bobby asked after a moment of silence.
"Now Scottie blows in a window so we can get inside," Warren said.
"I can't," Scott said miserably, "the Professor put in alarm systems, it it's armed, which it is because the School's locked, and the door or window are broken, or pried open, or lock picked, the whole place will go nuts."
"Nuts like……" Hank prodded.
"Nuts like, fourth of July fireworks aimed at your head, laud alarms, flashing, lights, massive destruction, and possible death." Scott finished with a sigh.
"Then how do we get in?" Bobby whined, clearly not happy about the news.
"We don't." Scott said wearily, feeling the wetness through his jacket.
"There has to be a way Slim," Warren said, "you know this place like the back of your hand."
Scott shrugged, thinking hard. "There is one……Wait, scratch that. There's no way that will work."
"What?" Hank, Warren, and Bobby asked at once.
"It's not going to work," Scott warned.
"Well indulge us, Mr. Summers, and we shall rule upon your idea," Hank said eagerly.
"The chimney," Scott said simply.
"Someone has to climb down the chimney?" Bobby asked.
Everyone turned to look at him, sizing him up.
Bobby backed away, "No way."
Warren grabbed him, but the younger boy slipped out of his large, poofy, jacket and ran.
"Good going, bird boy," Scott said dryly followed by a thick cough.
Hank bounded after Bobby, catching him easily, and throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Bobby, who seemed to forget that he was a mutant and had superpowers, began screaming, "Let me go!" and pounding on Hank's back with his fists.
"I got him!" Hank cried, stalking over to the other two mutants, carting Bobby like he was nothing more that a book sack.
"Well, it's to the roof we go," Scott said quietly.
"To the roof," Hank and Warren chanted.
"Great this is starting to sound like some sort of sick, human sacrificial ritual. This would sound great if my parole officer pulled up as we were forcing Bobby into the chimney, "Don't worry, it's not what you think. We're just forcing a thirteen year old boy down a chimney in the middle of a rainstorm, right before Halloween, because we got locked out of the house, and if we tried to break in, the place would go bezerk and kill us all." Scott shook his head, as Hank began climbing up the side of the house without hesitating, his mutant gift coming in handy.
"Want a lift?" Warren asked, shucking off his jacket and exposing his long sleeve shirt with two holes in the back where his wings stuck out of.
"Sure," Scott said dryly, "Up, up, and away."
Professor Xavier was making good progress, he thought, in getting in Lucy's good graces. "So, what do you think of my proposition?" Xavier asked, "You can come and meet the students, run a few tests, look through their medical records, whatever you need to do."
"Are you serious?" she questioned, "That and a grant as well? This is amazing, I accept, Charles." She almost squealed in happiness.
Xavier smiled at the woman's blatant excitement; he didn't have to be a psychic to feel the waves of happiness flowing off her, though it did help. "Waiter," Xavier called. "Can we have a bottle of champagne to celebrate; only the finest you have will do."
"Oh no Charles, it's too much," Lucy gasped.
"My dear, when you get to meet my students, you're going to wish you had something a bit stiffer than champagne." Xavier joked semi-seriously.
"All right Charles, I'll be there in the morning." Lucy reconciled after a few moments.
"I wouldn't come before ten o' clock." Xavier warned. "None of the boys are morning people, we're lucky if Bobby gets up before noon on Saturdays."
Lucy giggled, taking a sip of her bubbly drink, "Fine, ten o'clock."
"Dear god bobby, you have to cut back on those Twinkies," Scott groaned, as they pulled Bobby back out of the chimney. "You're too big to fit."
"I remember when he was a small lad," Hank sighed dramatically, only to receive a death glare from Scott and Warren. "What?" He questioned, "I was just trying to lighten the mood."
"I'm sorry guys," Bobby said sheepishly. "Now what?"
For a few moments, everyone was quiet, shivering on the roof of a three story Mansion which served as a school for mutant teenagers who are attempting to control their powers, and also home to the X-Men. Then, Bobby, Hank, and Warren all turned to look at Scott.
"What?" He growled, "Oh no you don't. I'm not getting in any chimney."
Ten minutes later, Scott stood in his boxers, shivering like mad in the cold wind and rain. "I hate you all."
"We know." Warren said warmly, before Scott crawled into the chimney opening.
Before Scott began to shimmy down the chimney, he stuck his head out to say a few things, "If I get stuck and starve to death, and my corpse it eaten by evil mutated pigeons, I'll come back to haunt you all until your untimely deaths." Then he began to slide down the small shaft.
"We wouldn't expect any less of you Slim." Warren said dryly.
Five minutes later, Scott's voice yelled, "DAMNIIT! I'M STUCK!"
"Oh crap." Hank and Warren both said as they looked at each other.
"We'll get you out Slim," bobby yelled into the chimney. "Won't we?" He asked hank and Warren.
"Of course we will," Hank fidgeted. Walking over to the edge of the chimney, if he stretched, he could see Scott's head, about seven feet down the dark shaft.
"DAMNIT, GET ME OUT!" Scott bellowed again, looking up at his friend's face.
"Chill out Scott," warren said, sticking his head over the chimney opening.
"I think I'm as chilled as I could possible get," Scott growled, shivering, his teeth chattering away.
"All right, I have a plan," Hank said, stepping away from the chimney, "Someone has to go for help, okay?"
Warren snorted, "how and where exactly Mr. Genius?"
"Hmmm, Slim," Hank yelled to Scott, "Where do you keep your spare set of keys?"
"Why do you want to know?" he grumbled.
"Because we need to go call the Professor," Hank replied.
"Under the driver's seat, taped to the top." Scott replied grudgingly.
"Thanks!" Hank yelled, returning to Warren and Bobby, "So who's going to go and who's staying with Slim?"
"I'm going!" all three boys said in unison.
"Bobby, you don't mind the cold," Warren said, "Why don't you stay?"
"Because there still might be evil zombies, even though Slim said there aren't any, that are out there waiting for me to be alone and helpless so they can come strip me of my flesh and pluck out my eyeballs and use them as after dinner breath mints." Bobby said seriously, Hank and Warren knew they weren't going to get anywhere.
"I can't drive anyway," Warren said, looking at his watch. "It's after eleven o' clock."
"I can," Hank said with a smirk, "it seems you are staying, my fine, feathered friend."
"No way McCoy," Warren argued. "I'm coming whether you like it or not."
"Guys," Bobby cut in, "Why don't all of us go? It's not like Scott's going anywhere, and he's not going to be great company anyways."
Both the older mutants thought it over for a minute, "Good thinking Bobby." Hank said after a few seconds.
Warren walked over to the chimney and yelled, "We'll be right back Slim!" And then he grabbed Bobby and took off, Hank was already waiting for them on the ground. No one waited for a reply from Scott.
"Hello?" Scott yelled five minutes later. No one answered. "Bobby? Hank? Warren?" After no one answered, Scott sighed, "They left me stuck in a chimney."
"Brrrrr, it's cold," Warren said as he cranked up the heat in Scott's car. They were driving along, up the road towards the Myers' house. It was three miles up the road.
"How are we going to do this?" Warren asked Hank as they pulled in the driveway.
"Do what? Ask to use their telephone?" Hank asked.
"I'll ask," Bobby supplied.
"I agree with short stuff," Warren said "he should do it. Everyone falls for his puppy dog eyes."
All three mutants approached the front door, Warren and hank stopping a few feet behind Bobby. Bobby looked at the older boys for reassurance; they nodded and made shooing motions.
Bobby rang the doorbell, and prepared his 'eyes'.
"Hello?" A middle age, rather plump woman said, "May I help you?"
"Are you Mrs. Myers?" Bobby asked.
"Why yes I am," the woman countered, "who are you?"
"I'm one of Professor Xavier's students," Bobby said, "These are my friends Hank and Warren."
"So?" The woman asked suspiciously, "Why are you here?"
"Well, we got locked out of the house, and it's really cold," Bobby said meekly, "And I get sick really easily, my mom doesn't like me to go out in this weather, and I was wondering if I could use your telephone really quickly to call Mr. Xavier, so he could bring a key and let us in." Bobby used his patented 'puppy dog eyes' and Mrs. Myers heart melted.
"Come in dearie," she said warmly, "I agree with your mother, it is nasty weather to be out in. My, my," she said in dismay as Bobby came in after politely wiping his sneakers on the doormat outside of the house, "You're all wet."
"Thank you Mrs. Myers," Bobby said gratefully. "I think my friends are going to wait in the car."
Mrs. Myers shut the door before Hank and Warren could come in, both then teens looked at each other for a moment, and headed back to the car.
"So how on earth did you get locked out?" Mrs. Myers asked, "Would you like some hot coca?"
"Sure," Bobby said awkwardly, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Eh….Well, my friends were watching this scary zombie movie and I got really scared and they played a prank on me after that, and I thought there was a zombie outside my window, when it was just one of them in a Halloween mask." Bobby fudged the truth slightly, "So Slim, who's like my older brother practically, made them go outside and check for zombies, so I could go to sleep."
"That was sweet of him," Mrs. Myers said, wondering if Slim was the juvenile delinquent she had heard about, but quickly brushed off the notion because of how reverently Bobby was speaking of him.
"It was. But then, when we tried to get back inside, the door was locked. So we were going to break a window, but the alarms would go off, and we didn't want to get in trouble, so Slim suggested I climb down the chimney." Bobby said pausing to sip some hot chocolate, forgetting about how important his phone call was, like many younger children do, and got caught up in the story he was telling.
"The chimney!" Mrs. Myers exclaimed.
"Yes, the chimney," Bobby said, "but I was too big, so Slim tried, because, like his nickname says, he's really skinny. You can see all his ribs, it's kinda gross. Anyways, Slim crawled down the chimney in his underwear, but he got stuck, so we came to call the Professor to find out what we should do." After a moment, Bobby suddenly realized what he was doing, "SCOTT! I forgot about him! May I use your phone now Mrs. Myers?"
Out in the car, Warren was tapping his foot along to the rhythm of a country song that Hank had on the radio, "I don't know how you can stand this stuff."
"It seems your foot doesn't mind," Hank said dryly, glancing at the clock. "This is the last time we send a thirteen year old boy on a mission by himself."
"I agree," Warren said.
Charles Xavier studied the paper in front of him, it was Lucy's thesis paper, and it was very good. He was about to comment on it, but was interrupted as his cell phone rage loudly in the stillness of Lucy's small, one bedroom apartment.
"Hello?" He asked, not bothering to try and figure out who it was, as his eyes scanned the paper.
"Professor? It's Bobby," Bobby said quietly, "I know you said not to interrupt you during your really important meeting, but there's kinda a little problem."
"Yes?" Xavier asked, getting ready for whatever it was.
"Well, I'm over at Mrs. Myer's house, down the road, we got locked out, Slim, Warren, Hank, and I, that is."
"Is that all?" Xavier asked, relieved it wasn't anything worse.
Bobby cleared his throat, "brace yourself," he muttered. "And Slim's stuck in the chimney."
It took a second for what Bobby said to register with Xavier, "WHAT?!"
Lucy looked up in shock at Xavier. She wondered what was so bad that he was yelling.
"What should we do?" Bobby asked.
"Who is there with him?" Xavier asked wearily.
"Em…..No one, sir." Bobby said hesitantly.
Xavier groaned. "Go back to the house, I'll be there in ten minutes, and I'll see if we need to bring the fire department in on this."
"I don't think Slim would like that," Bobby said quietly, "You see, he's kind of in his underwear."
"WHAT!" Xavier bellowed again. Lucy frowned, this must be really bad.
"I'll see you there sir." Bobby said quietly, hanging up the phone. He turned to look at Mrs. Myers, who smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you Mrs. Myers, but I need to get back home, the Professor should be there soon, and hopefully we won't need to call the fire department, though it would be kinda neat."
"It was nice to meet you Bobby, feel free to come over any time," Mrs. Myers said softly as she ushered bobby out the door.
"I will," Bobby promised before the door shut behind him. He ran out to the car where Hank and Warren sat. He crawled in the backseat, and said, "The Professor's on the way. We have to get home."
"All right, what took you so long?" Warren asked as he pulled back onto the road and began to drive back to the mansion.
"Well, I kind of forgot about Slim being stuck in the chimney," Bobby admitted. "But Mrs. Myers is really nice."
Meanwhile, Mrs. Myers grinned as she took the lock of hair that she cut off of Bobby's head when he war arguing with Xavier, and pinned it to a voodoo doll. She laughed evilly as she spun in circles, rejoicing in furthering her collection. Eventually she would get some hair from everyone in the world, and haven them all under her control, so she could fulfill her life's dream as being Supreme Dictator of the World. She crackled like a witch, which she was, at the sweet thought of world domination.
"The Professor said we might have to call the fire department, do you think we will?" Bobby asked eagerly, after a few minutes of silence as Warren tried to keep his concentration on the road.
"We might," Hank said gleefully, "I really want to see Slim's face when they pull him out in his boxers."
"Me too," Warren agreed as they pulled into the driveway.
Bobby jumped out of the car, and waited for hank and Warren to follow, the three hurried across the yard, but stopped in their tracks, as a dark, dirty, bloody figure stepped away from the shelter of the front side of the house where it sought protection form the rain.
"I….I though you said there were no such things as zombies," Bobby stuttered, backing away. Warren picked up a rather large fallen tree branch which had conveniently been right next to their location, and swung it at the zombie.
"Hit him again Warren! Get that zombie scum!" Bobby yelled, as the limb connected with the zombie's middle.
"Sstop!" the zombie shouted hoarsely, getting to his knees, covered in mud.
"Huh?" Warren said, hefting the stick for another blow. "Is that……."
"Y…You leffftt mee in ttthe fuuckking chimmmney." The figure stuttered.
"Scott?!" Warren yelled, raising the limb again. "Oh my god, he died and came back a zombie!"
"Shuuut uup youu mmoron." Scott growled. "Yyyyou took mmmy clothes."
Everyone looked at Hank, who still held Scott's clothes in his hands. "Whoops."
"Hey, he's not a zombie!" Bobby yelled, taking a closer look at Scott. He was smeared in black dust from the chimney, and was bleeding from a few cuts from crawling back out of the chimney, as well as the mud, courtesy of Warren knocking him over with a hit to the stomach with a tree branch. "Slim! How did you get out?"
"I cccclimbed." Scott chattered, taking another step towards his friends.
Right then, Jean's car pulled into the driveway, and she hurriedly jumped out of the car, leaving the engine running, her friend, Stacy, who she was staying with that night, followed close behind. Both had heavy coats thrown on over their pajamas, and Jean still had slippers on her feet.
Both the girls stopped dead in their tracks as they looked at the scene which was folded out in front of them. "Scott? I thought you were stuck in a chimney," Jean said.
"So did we," Warren muttered.
"You're in your underwear," Stacy noted with a blush coloring her cheeks.
"Oh Jesus," Warren cursed, "Here's your clothes." He grabbed the coat from Hank and handed Scott his jacket quickly, which Scott unhesitatingly slid on.
"Can you let us inside?" Hank asked Jean.
"Sure," Jean rolled her eyes, walking up to the front door, leading the procession, and pulling a house key out of her purse, "You four are morons."
"I agrggree," Scott nodded.
Jean opened the door, and Scott gratefully stumbled inside. "Get some clothes on Slim," Jean said, looking her friend over with a smirk. "You look a little cold."
Scott eloquently shot Jean a dirty look, coughed, and stalked out of the room towards the stairs.
"So what now?" Hank asked absently, but he was answered by the Professor wheeling into the house, followed by a woman with dark brown hair and matching eyes, dressed in a comfortable, yet formal black skirt and top.
"Where's Scott?" Xavier growled. "Is he still in the chimney? Hank, do we still have the fire department on speed dial?"
"No, he crawled out while we were gone," Hank replied, looking sheepish, "I forgot I had his clothes with me."
Xavier shook his head, sometimes he wondered if any of the boys had an ounce of common sense in their testosterone laden brains. "Exactly what possessed you to make Scott climb down the chimney? I assume he didn't do it willingly."
"Well, we got locked out of the house," Warren started.
"Looking for zombies," Bobby added.
"Zombies?" Xavier asked blankly.
"We all watched Attack of the Killer Zombies, and Warren and I attempted to pull a prank on Bobby by making him believe the zombies were coming to suck his brains out with a bendy straw," Hank added.
Xavier rubbed his head, "Why do I feel a migraine coming on?"
"And Scott pointed out our mistakes in the prank, because he was going to pull a similar one later," Warren continued. "So we found ourselves out in the rain, and we were going to attempt to break back in, but Scott told us that the house would go crazy and blow us up."
"I knew letting him look over the security blueprints was a good idea in the long run," Xavier muttered. "Even though I'm almost certain he sneaks out at night."
"Well, sir, he then said that the only way in was the chimney," Bobby chirped, "though he didn't want anyone to try it. But Hank grabbed me, and he and Warren tried to force me down the chimney, but I didn't fit."
"So we nominated Scott because he's practically emaciated," Hank added gleefully.
"But he got stuck about seven feet down, and none of us could reach him. We then decided to get help, but no one would stay with Scott, so we all left to find a telephone we could use," Warren said, "so we called you, and came back here."
"But we had somehow mistaken Scott as a zombie because he somehow escaped the chimney and got to the ground," Hank added, hiding a smirk.
"And Warren hit him with a tree limb," Bobby added helpfully as Warren glared at the younger boy.
"He didn't need to know about that part," Warren growled.
"Consider it revenge for playing that mean joke on me and getting us all in this mess," Bobby quipped. Xavier sighed, rubbing his temples again; he turned to Lucy and smiled semi-convincingly.
"When I told you you'd wish for a stiffer drink, I was not joking," Xavier sighed. "I'm sorry that you had to be here for this."
"Its fine Charles, thought I am curious, is something like this a common event here?" Lucy smiled at the look on Xavier's face.
"Well, think of it this way Ms." Bobby said sweetly, "We're known by everyone in the emergency room by our first names."
Lucy laughed lightly, "I like your sense of humor, Bobby? Correct? Call me Lucy."
"All right, these two morons here are Hank," Bobby pointed to Hank who smiled sheepishly.
"Pleasure," Hank muttered.
"And Warren," Bobby motioned towards the winged mutant.
"Stunning to make your acquaintance," Warren said, bowing.
"You're every bit as charming as Charles told me," Luck winked at Bobby, "And I'm sure you do realize I'm out of college, so don't try it on me."
Warren blushed, but kept silent; shooting daggers from his eyes at Bobby who was practically rolling around on the floor in laughter at Warren's being brushed off by Lucy.
Jean cleared her throat, "I'm Jean," Jean said with a small smile, "but I'm sorry that I can't stick around any longer, we've got to get back to Stacy's house before her mom flips out on us."
Bobby, Hank, and Warren all of a sudden broke out into three identical, off tune, rather awful versions of, "Stacy's Mom."
"Shut. Up." Jean glared at the three boys.
"Don't worry about it Jean,' Stacy laughed, "I get that all the time. You ready to head home?"
"Yeah, in a second, I want to check on Scott and grab a CD from my room," Jean answered.
"I'll come," Stacy said, following Jean out of the room.
Warren shrugged, "I guess she didn't appreciate our singing."
"Scott?" Jean asked, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"
There was no reply.
"I don't think he's in here," Stacy said quietly, "Maybe he went to go get a shower or something."
Jean shook her head, doing a quick mind scan of the room, Scott was defiantly in there. "He's in there. I think something's wrong."
"SCOTT SUMMERS!" Jean bellowed through the door, "I'M BREAKING IN THERE IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
"Jeeze Jean," Stacy flinched, "harsh."
Jean smiled apologetically at her friend, and reeled back and kicked the door in.
Stacy looked aghast, but Jean simply shook her head like she did this sort of thing every day, which, in this house, she did. Scott was sitting on the edge of his bead, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve black t-shirt, his head in his hands.
"Scott! Why didn't you open the door?" Jean questioned, walking over to her friend.
Through the haze that was his mind, Scott heard a voice break through. Was that his mother? He somehow found the energy to pick his head up, only to find that he couldn't breathe.
"Scott?" Jean asked uncertainty, it wasn't his mom.
"Jean…." Scott gasped, lips quickly turning blue. "Can't…..Breathe."
"Shit!" Jean exclaimed. "Stacy, run and get the Professor!"
It was then that it went all black for Scott Summers.
"Suffering from…..Lucky one here……Caught earlier……Very sick……. Pneumonia……Dangerous…….Advanced case……Soon……" Bits of conversations drifted in Scott's ears, as he slowly pulled himself from the black hole in which he fell earlier; he hadn't felt this sick since he was eight years old.
He coughed, which brought him fully back to the world around him, the first thing he noted was that he was still cold all over. He shivered, opening his eyes, looking for the source of the noise which woke him. Xavier and a doctor were outside his half open door, talking, those must have been the voices he heard. He looked over to the right side of his bed, and noted the IV drip leading to his hand, and the machine which kept track of his heart rate.
'Great, another hospital.' Scott thought sourly, but his mood quickly vanished, as he turned his head to the left, and noted the mop of red hair and pale skin which was sleeping on the chair next to him, her breaths falling evenly and quietly. Jean was sleeping in the stiff, uncomfortable, plastic hospital chair next to his bed. Scott watched the girl sleep for a few minutes before trying to wake her up, he didn't want to deal with her crabbiness if she woke up with a sore back in the morning.
"Jean?" Scott rasped, taking his good hand and lightly shaking the girl's thin arm which was propped up on the side of the bed.
"Wha? What?" Jean gasped, sitting up, "I swear Professor, I'm not tired."
Scott tried to laugh, but found it rather difficult with tubes coming out of his nose.
"Scott!" Jean squealed, "You're awake!"
"I've noticed," Scott said, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"
"You told me you couldn't breathe and passed out. Luckily, that lady who came over with the Professor was a graduate med student and kept you breathing and stuff until we could get you to the hospital." Jean said all this one breath, gasping for air when she finished.
"Is that all?" Scott asked dryly, coughing.
"Why didn't you tell someone you were sick?" Jean asked, anger shooting sparks through her pretty green eyes.
"I didn't know I was," Scott shrugged, wincing at the soreness in his muscles from his fight with the chimney.
Jean's eyes softened. "We almost lost you Slim, if you died, then I'd have no one to torment, or ask advice from. You wouldn't be around to play twenty questions with my dates, and threaten them with bodily harm if they hurt me in any way."
Scott smiled slightly and pointed out, "If I did die, then you wouldn't have to worry about me scaring away all your dates."
"I really don't mind," Jean admitted, "Those are the whimps, perverts, and freaks and you weed them all out so I don't need to worry about it."
A voice chuckled from the doorway; Xavier smiled as he wheeled into the room, "I'm glad to see you're awake Scott."
"I'm glad to see anything at all," Scott smiled, but coughed quietly again, "even if it is your face sir."
"I'm glad to see having a severe case of Pneumonia and almost dieing when your lungs filled up with fluid hasn't dampened your wonderful sense of humor," Xavier said dryly.
Scott's eyes widened, he hadn't realized how close he was to dieing, he thought Jean was just overreacting as many women do. "How much trouble am I in, sir?"
"Just enough that you won't be going out for the next few weeks," Xavier replied, "but not as much as the other three of your accomplices are."
"That's a relief," Scott muttered darkly.
"Well, we best be going Jean, Scott, do try to keep out of trouble, for once. I know it's a lot to ask, but I hope being bedridden might be able to keep you safe this time." Xavier smiled, "We'll be back in the morning to check on you." Xavier wheeled out of the room, leaving Jean standing next to Scott's bead. She looked him in the eyes for a moment with a small smile on her face.
"What's so funny?" Scott grumbled.
"Goth girls Slim?" Jean asked, a smirk finding its way across her face.
"I was just kidding," Scott choked, eyes wide.
"Oh, you were," Jean said in mock disappointment, "because you know I have a pair of leather pants in the closet and I could probably rustle up a pair of fake vampire teeth."
"Did I say kidding?" Scott coughed.
"Go to sleep Slim, I'll see you in the morning." Jean laughed, walking out the door.
"Goodnight Red," Scott whispered to himself. "You wouldn't make a good goth anyways."
"I heard that Summers!" Jean yelled through the door.
Scott smirked before leaning back in his uncomfortable hospital bed and promptly falling back asleep.
Okay, That was it, I hope you enjoyed it:) I'll put a little excerpt from my next story in the making, Lizzie, tea Parties, and Other world Ending Catastrophes:
Scott sat up as he heard the door open, "Hank, if that's you, I swear you better start running, because I just got around to reading your blog, and I don't like the fact that you referred to me as, 'A Pig-Headed, Bigoted, Sarcastic, Bitter, Anarchistic Bastard.' "
"It's Bobby," the youngest mutant yelled. "There's someone you need to meet."
"Is it your girlfriend?" Scott asked dryly, "because you know I don't really get off on that whole group play stuff," getting up from his spot on the floor and walking into the entrance hall.
There stood Scott's vision of Satin reincarnated, three feet of pure evil in pink and pigtails. The look on her tiny face screamed, 'I'm going to eat your brains for breakfast,' though that could just be his medication talking.
"Scott, meet my little sister, Elizabeth." Bobby said with a hesitant smile.
"I'm officially ready to kill myself god, please smite me down and end it here." Scott yelled towards the heavens, or in his case, the ceiling.
"He's funny," the little pink-clad demon giggled, leaving Bobby's side and running over to Scott and wrapping her little arms around him.
"No, Lizzie, don't. He's heavily medicated………," Bobby said lamely, and too late.
"IT'S TOUCHING ME!! OH MY GOD! I'M GONNA DIE!" Scott yelled, trying to pry the little girl off his side.
"……..and not very nice." Bobby finished with a sigh as he decided to watch the chain of events play out in front of him. What? It was better than most prime time television.